


To He Who Waits

by Warp5Complex_Archivist



Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-05-29
Updated: 2007-05-29
Packaged: 2018-08-16 06:59:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8092189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Warp5Complex_Archivist/pseuds/Warp5Complex_Archivist
Summary: Tucker gets a grip and makes things hard for Reed





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Kylie Lee, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Warp 5 Complex](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Warp_5_Complex), the software of which ceased to be maintained and created a security hazard. To make future maintenance and archive growth easier, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but I may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Warp 5 Complex collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/Warp5Complex).

  
Author's notes: My contribution to National Masturbation Month, May 2007  


* * *

The Citadel was impressive, Reed had to admit that. A pale red sandstone monolith made from huge, impeccably cut and  
laid blocks, the deep window embrasures giving nothing of the interior away. The building was set at one end of a large  
rectangular space, itself enclosed by two-metre thick walls in more of the same sandstone; the walkway that ran in a complete circuit, level with the first floor windows in the citadel, was dwarfed by the ten or more metres of buttressed wall above it.

Reed was impressed. He was also tired, bored and hot. And frustrated - on a number of levels.

Frustrated that he could no longer even see the pavilion where the negotiations were taking place; that despite having 'invited' Enterprise to provide personnel to join the guard patrol, the Kathali had refused to allow them to carry any weapons; that owing to the restrictions of the Kathali caste system he hadn't been able to voice his objections to Captain Archer; that in the twelve hours they had been on Kathali the same caste system had prohibited him from exchanging so much as a word with his lover, Commander Trip Tucker; that he had in fact not been able to even see Tucker for the last five hours as his patrol duties took him away from the senior officers. And to cap it all, the heavy twill cloth of his uniform, stiffened by sweat and dust, chaffed in a way that was causing frustrations of a quite different kind.

 

Enterprise had entered the Kathali system two days ago, drawn there by the one Minshara class planet and fourteen smaller outer planets, many of which had rich mineral deposits. Tucker had suggested they take the opportunity to see if there was anything they could use, but before they had even set up a survey pattern they had been challenged and told in no uncertain terms that they were trespassing. It had taken a full day to convince the locals that they were no threat and that now that they knew someone laid claim to the minerals, they would be interested in a possible trade.

Eventually Captain Archer had been invited to attend formal trade negotiations. And when the Kathali said formal they meant it.

Hoshi Sato and Sub-commander T'Pol had managed to compile an extensive dossier on the Kathali, using radio and video transmissions and computer files to which they had been granted access. One of the main points of interest had been the caste system. The people the Enterprise delegation would be meeting were members of the ruling caste, and they expected Archer to bring with him only people of the highest rank. They would however each be allowed to bring a s'oltath, a personal guard, news that cheered Reed when he heard it. His pleasure was short-lived: s'oltath were not allowed to carry arms, not because the Kathali feared an attack, but because they believed that no s'oltath worthy of the name needed weapons.

The caste system also stipulated different dress codes for people of different ranks. This dilemma they solved by Archer, T'Pol and Tucker wearing hot-weather uniforms, while Reed and the other two security personnel wore their normal blue coveralls, minus the black undershirts, and with the addition of standard issue baseball caps as a concession to the blazing sun.

When on their arrival at the citadel the Kathali leader offered to honour Archer by allowing his party's s'oltath to join his own troop on patrol duties there was no possible way to refuse. Consequently Reed and the other two security personnel were allocated places, widely separated Reed noted, on the high walkway running around the outer walls, while the senior officers were shown to the rooms allocated for their use late during the midday siesta. Reed found himself positioned above and to one side of the pavilion that had been erected to shade the negotiating party, a vantage point which gave him an excellent view of a wide area, and he would have been happy had he been allowed to stay there, but it wasn't to be. They were expected to patrol around the walkway. Each man stood in front of one of the massive buttresses spaced about a hundred metres apart, moving to the next buttress anti-clockwise roughly every forty minutes. The locals seemed to know instinctively when it was time to move on, smartly turning to their right and parading at a slow march. Reed, lacking their internal clock, took his cue from the man to his left â€“ the direction in which the pavilion lay and therefore the direction in which he was looking â€“ walking rather than marching. It was far too hot to march, he decided. 

Eleven hours on patrol, sixteen buttresses, a kilometre and a half away from where he started, a corner turned and the bulk of the citadel between him and the pavilion, heat bouncing between the boundary wall at his back and the citadel wall fifteen metres or so in front of him, sunlight reflecting dazzlingly off the sandstone, hot, tired, bored and frustrated, Reed was fed up to his back teeth.

 

He shook his head slightly while screwing his face into a frown, trying to ease the grip of the baseball cap and dislodge a particularly irritating drip of sweat at the same time. When he opened his eyes again he noticed movement to his left. Realising it was nowhere near forty minutes since he'd last moved station he peered more closely, trying to work out what was going on. A small group of people was approaching along the walkway. He easily picked out the sandy colour of an Enterprise uniform. They were too far away for him to see clearly, but he recognised by the build that it was Tucker not Archer, and his day suddenly didn't seem quite as bad.uite so bad.

They strolled closer, seemingly in no hurry to get wherever they were going; Tucker, two of the Kathali delegation and their s'oltath. Watching as they covered the final hundred metres to his position Reed saw Tucker laugh at something one of the Kathali said, tipping his head back so that the sunlight lit his face under the brim of his cap. Then they came to a halt in front of him and he stood silently at attention, alert but not meeting anyone's eyes, as suited to his caste position.

'Your s'oltath show well,' one of the Kathali said. 'Better than I would have expected. This one looks frail.' 

The Kathali s'oltath were all what Reed classed as 'big bruisers'; over two metres tall and with the physique of body builders.

'Appearances can be deceptive,' Tucker said. 'He does look hot though.'

As he spoke he reached out and pulled the zip at the front of Reed's coverall down a little, his fingers slipping inside and brushing sweaty skin, startling the man into glancing directly at him.

The mischief he saw in Tucker's eyes before he hurriedly lowered his own again made Reed's heart leap while at the same time filling him with a sense of foreboding. Tucker was up to something.

'Are you hot, Malcolm?' he asked, his tone salacious. 'You may speak.'

Reed gritted his teeth, silently vowing revenge. 'Yes, sir.'

'Yes, definitely hot.' Tucker slid the zip down a little further, and Reed's breath caught in his throat as fingertips ghosted over his nipple.

Difficulty breathing wasn't his body's only reaction, and he shifted his weight slightly hoping to ease the growing pressure in his groin.

Tucker gave a little huff of amusement and pulled the zip up back to its original position. 'You need something to take your mind off the heat.' He gave a tug on the zipper tag causing Reed to look up at him again. Tucker, his back to the Kathali, winked and ran his tongue over his lips.

Then he turned and the whole party moved on without a backward glance, leaving Reed on the whole happier than before, but a heck of a lot more frustrated.

Tired, bored, hot, and now decidedly aroused.

'Bloody marvellous,' he muttered. 'You're going to pay for this later, Mister Tucker.'

 

By the time he was called upon to move, Reed's erection had thankfully dwindled somewhat. He took the opportunity of the short walk to adjust his clothing and by the time he settled himself against the next buttress he was reasonably comfortable again.

Immediately opposite his position was one of the deep window embrasures. Its shutters were open against the two-metre deep walls and a cushion had been placed on the flat sill. The angle of the sun meant that the whole of the embrasure was lit and clearly visible to him but a white curtain hid the interior of the room from view. Reed was intrigued: this was the first indication he'd had of life within the citadel. As he watched the curtain was drawn aside and a figure was revealed. He gave a quiet groan of frustration as his cock stirred to life again.

It was Tucker, apparently still determined to give Reed something to take his mind off the heat.

Tucker didn't react to Reed's presence. He leaned forward and looked right and left, as if checking that the s'oltath either side of Reed couldn't see him. Apparently satisfied he slid back off the sill and stood. The shadows in the room made it difficult to see the expression on his face, but were no barrier at all to seeing what he was doing. Reed found the lack of detail only enhanced the eroticism, and his body reacted accordingly in spite of himself. 

Tucker stretched languorously. He unzipped the neck of his shirt, gripped the hem in both hands and pulled the garment off over his head, dropping it to the floor before running his hands over his exposed torso and down to his waist. Unfastening the fly, he pushed his trousers down, pulling them right off and tossing them carelessly over his shoulder in a gesture calculated to irritate the preternaturally tidy Reed. The bright blue of his underpants was almost shocking after the unrelieved red of the sandstone. One hand massaged his crotch while the other played with a nipple, his head tilted back in apparent pleasure. Then both hands slipped under the waistband of his blues and pulled them down, releasing a cock standing eagerly to attention. 

Naked, Tucker climbed onto the pillow on the sill and knelt, sitting back on his heels, legs splayed. He spent a moment or two getting comfortable before stretching again cat-like, wantonly, back arched, head thrown back.

Opposite Reed let his head fall back, banging it gently against the buttress. Eyes closed, all too aware of his growing erection and desperately trying to think of something else, anything else, he muttered: 'Don't do this to me.'

It was no good, no matter what common sense told him he had to look. Staying leaning against the hot sandstone he opened his eyes and concentrated on remaining outwardly impassive while he watched the show his lover was putting on for him.

Apparently oblivious to his audience Tucker used his hands to explore his body, massaging each arm in turn, playing with his armpit hair and then covering his face with both hands.

Reed stirred, making a small noise in the back of his throat, imagining the strength of the aroma after hours in this heat, longing to breathe it in.

Now Tucker was working on his nipples, squeezing, pinching. He wet a finger in his mouth and rubbed it over one dark nub, smiling at the result; whether at the appearance or the sensation Reed didn't know. Hands on thighs Tucker outlined the strong muscles, lifting himself off his heels a little to reach round and massage his buttocks; the action pushing his groin forwards a little, his cock bouncing gently with the movement. Across his belly â€“ Reed remembering the feel of the firm flesh, the dip into the tight little navel and the soft caress of the trail of blond hair leading downwards. The creases at the join of hip and thigh; Tucker jumping slightly as he touched the sensitive spot, as Reed did every time to tease and tantalise, a promise of things to come.

Tucker's hands cupped his balls, rolling them gently. Reed couldn't see the details of what his lover was doing to himself, he was too far away and the light too bright in his eyes, but he was with Tucker now, the sight, smell and feel of him clear in his imagination, every action of the other man sparking remembered sensation in Reed's body and mind. The pressure of his erection against his uniform was a pleasurable pain, and he had to work to stop his hands moving to echo Tucker's movements.

Tucker leaded forward, head lowered, back curved and for a moment Reed thought he was going to try and fellate himself â€“ surely he wasn't that supple? No. Something glinted silver in the sunlight and Reed realised it was saliva, lubrication.

Tucker stroked his shaft, once down and up, spreading the wetness. 

Reed's fingers twitched, curling themselves to grasp, his thumb making the same small circles he imagined Tucker's was as it rested at the head of his cock. He groaned. This was killing him; he should close his eyes, turn away. He did half turn, though not with any great strength of purpose. What he saw drove any thoughts of closing his eyes out of his head: about six hundred metres away a group of people were on the walkway moving towards him, the sand and white of Archer and T'Pol's hot-weather gear clearly recognisable. His eyes snapped back to Tucker.

Unaware of the approaching party Tucker was fully involved in the task at hand. Even had there been a way to warn him, Reed doubted he could have caught the man's attention.

One of Tucker's hands still held his balls, exposing them to Reed's gaze, offering them. The other hand was moving rhythmically on his shaft and Reed could feel the weight and texture in his own hand, feel the movement of skin over the underlying firmness, the stickiness of precum; his mouth opened in involuntary response to his need to suck or bite something, anything.

Tucker's hand moved more urgently, as if responding to the situation, but Reed knew it was an illusion; Tucker had no way to know his captain was now only three hundred metres away and Reed had no way to tell him, even if he wanted to. He knew himself well enough to acknowledge that the added risk of discovery by his captain and first officer was heightening his already overstretched senses.

Tucker was clearly nearing his climax; even across the distance Reed could hear him grunting in synch with the pumping of his hand, and for the first time he looked directly at Reed, locking onto his gaze. 

With a wordless shout Tucker came, great gouts of cum arcing across the sill, some falling in dark stains across the pale stone of the citadel wall. It was an intensely erotic sight and Reed had to use every means at his command to stop himself coming with his partner. The sight of Captain Archer now only a hundred metres away was pretty high on his list of effective techniques.

Tucker was still kneeling on the sill, recovering. Reed willed him to look up, and for once the gods favoured him. Catching the man's eye Reed jerked his head towards the Archer and the others. Tucker leaned forward and for a heart-stopping moment Reed thought he'd overstretched himself and was in danger of falling, then Tucker jerked backwards, and the speed with which he got himself off the sill told Reed that he had realised they were no longer alone.

A glance towards Archer equally clearly told Reed that the captain had seen something, Tucker's head perhaps; his blond hair an easy identifier on this world of dark-haired aliens. That and the drying but still visible stain of Tucker's cum on the walls must surely have given him some idea of what had been going on. 

Reed, embarrassed as hell, yet still erotically charged almost gasped in relief as Archer turned away from him and attracted the attention of the rest of the group pointing to something back in the direction from which they had come and drawing the others into conversation. By the time Archer turned back a couple of minutes later Reed had managed to get himself sufficiently under control that he felt he could face his captain with a certain degree of equanimity. Of Tucker there was no sign, his cushion had disappeared and the shutters were now closed across his window.

'Lieutenant.' Archer stopped in front of him, a mixture of exasperation and amusement in his eyes. 'Everything all right?'

'Yes, sir.' Reed focussed somewhere over Archer's shoulder, partly because Kathali convention required it and partly because he didn't entirely trust himself to meet that knowing gaze directly.

'Seen Commander Tucker?'

There was definite amusement in Archer's voice, and Reed could feel himself blushing as he answered.

'He came...passed,' he stumbled. 'The commander passed by about half an hour ago, sir. I think he may be in his room.'

'Yes, it's siesta. Negotiations have been adjourned for now.' There was a pause. 'Commander Tucker should have his s'oltath with him during this period, I think.'

Now Reed did risk a glance at Archer. The captain was addressing one of the Kathali, as if checking a point of protocol, although his manner said that the check was just a courtesy. Archer had obviously managed to find a way to deal with the Kathali on equal footing.

The man he'd been addressing inclined his head graciously. 'Of course. There may be services he needs his s'oltath to provide.'

Reed wondered if it was just his guilty knowledge that made the remark sound so suggestive.

'Go join Commander Tucker, Lieutenant. Tell him I sent you. And after siesta I think it would be a good idea if you accompanied him at the negotiations. I'm sure that won't be a problem?' he finished, smiling at the Kathali, who hastened to agree with him. 

Yes, Reed thought, very clearly Archer had got the measure of the Kathali. Hopefully that meant the negotiations would soon be over and they could return to Enterprise. 

'Sir.' Reed snapped off a salute, garnering a grin from Archer and raised eyebrows from T'Pol, and then turned smartly on his heel and headed off towards the steps leading into the citadel.

 

The interior of the citadel was startlingly chilly after the hours he'd spent in the sun. Spotting a water fountain in the lobby he spent a few minutes slowly taking in water, not caring whether this was permitted for s'olanth or not. 

Finding Tucker's door he took a moment to wipe the sweat off his face and neck, drying his hands on his uniform, then seeing no other way of attracting attention, raised his fist and knocked.

'Who is it?' 

Tucker sounded to have recovered his composure, a situation Reed was intending to reverse.

'Lieutenant Reed, sir,' he called, maintaining formality for the benefit of any Kathali in earshot. 

The door swung open. 

'Malcolm! What you doing here?'

'Captain Archer sent me. He thought you might need the services of your s'oltath.' He put just enough emphasis on 'services' to raise a rueful grin from the now fully-clothed Tucker.

'Not slow at putting two and two together.'

'Quite. Sir.' Reed added the title with a pointed look along the corridor.

'Oh, yeah. Come in.' 

Tucker stood back for Reed to enter, closing the heavy door behind him. As he turned he found himself seized and shoved violently against the door, his uniform shirt bunched in Reed's fists. He opened his mouth to protest, but before he could say anything found it covered by Reed's, the fierceness of the kiss crushing his lips and forcing his head against the wood with a sharp crack.

'Bastard,' Reed said when he came up for air.

'That any way to talk to your master?'

'Sorry. Bastard, sir.'

Tucker laughed. 'Hey!' he protested, as Reed yanked his shirt out of his pants and up to his armpits.

Reed pulled back, impatiently removed his baseball cap and tossed it to one side. He looked at Tucker hungrily. 'I'm tired of being treated like a servant. You've had your fun, now it's my turn. Now get this off.' He yanked at the shirt again.

'It wasn't fun for you too?' Tucker asked, while obediently removing his shirt.

Reed just growled and Tucker laughed again, allowing himself to be turned and pushed against the table at the foot of the bed. 

Reed leaned against Tucker's arse, letting the man feel the heat and hardness of his cock while he unzipped his coverall and shrugged his arms free of it. Keeping one hand in the small of Tucker's back Reed pushed his coverall down to his knees, taking his blues with it, finally releasing his aching cock. Next he reached around and unfastened Tucker's fly, knocking away the man's hand when he would have helped.

'Keep your hands on the table,' he ordered.

He pulled Tucker's pants down roughly then plunged his hands inside Tucker's blues, grasping his stiffening cock as he eased the fabric over it and down to his thighs.

Pushing Tucker against the table again Reed stepped back. Tucker tried to turn his head to see what he was doing but Reed slapped him on the cheek saying, 'Eyes front.'

Satisfied he was being obeyed Reed spit liberally on his hands, using the saliva to coat his cock then he parted Tucker's buttocks with both hands and carefully lined himself up with his hole, giving enough of a push to get a reaction. Tucker's sphincter twitched and he gasped.

'Quiet,' Reed ordered, pushing a little harder.

This time there was a muffled moan.

'You okay?' Reed asked, rather spoiling his hard man act.

'God, yes. Don't stop,' Tucker panted. 'Fuck! That'sâ€¦ohâ€¦no, no, go on.'

Reed let him talk, getting off on the garbled mix of protest and encouragement. Slowly, carefully he eased himself inside his lover. Once fully sheathed he pulled out a short way and sank back in with a bit more force then stopped, lying along Tucker's back. One hand he placed flat on the table top for balance, with the other he reached around and grasped Tucker's by now fully erect cock. He stroked his hand along the hard length once or twice, smiling as he remembered the phantom sense of doing just that while watching Tucker earlier.

'I'm not going to last long, love,' he said.

'Me neither. God, I was right. You are so damn hot, Malcolm.' Tucker's hand displaced Reed's on his cock. 'Forget that, I'll take care of it. You get a hold and fuck me hard, like you mean it.' He started pumping his own cock as he spoke, gasping, 'Yeah, baby, harder. Hold on tight,' as Reed started to pound into him, and, 'That's good,' followed by a deep moan as Reed dug his fingers hard into his hips.

Reed was right, he didn't last long feeling his climax begin to unfurl after embarrassingly few strokes, but when it came it was powerful enough to leave him lying limply across Tucker's back, sucking in great lungfuls of air while his mind drifted, seemingly disinterested in further action of any kind.

'Hey, you still with me?'

Tucker's voice penetrated the haze and from somewhere Reed found the energy to mumble a response.

'You want to stand up then? Afore I get stuck in this position.'

Reed reluctantly pushed himself upright and stepped back, staggering slightly as his forgotten coveralls snagged his knees. Tucker gave a small groan as Reed's cock slid out of him, then another louder one as he pushed himself upright. He shook his right arm to return the feeling â€“ it had been trapped between him and the table when Reed collapsed against him. Wiping his hand on his chest to remove some of the cum, he slid both his arms around Reed, drawing his partner to him in a gentle hug. Reed's arms wrapped around Tucker's waist and his head rested against the taller man's shoulder.

'Sorry,' he said. 'And thanks. For the show and for this.'

'Nothing to be sorry for,' Tucker averred. 'Guess the day got to you, huh?'

'You could say that. You didn't make things any easier.'

'Nope. Made them harder,' Tucker said, rubbing his groin suggestively against Reed.

Reed laughed and released his grip on Tucker, stepping away and bending down to pull his coveralls off properly. Instead of straightening up, he reached and pulled Tucker's pants and blues down so he could step out of them.

Standing, Reed stretched. 'Does this place have a shower?' he asked looking around the room properly for the first time.

Tucker nodded towards a door. 'In there. Multi-jet shower, big, luxurious with a marble bench and warm air dryers. Nothing but the best for us masters.'

'Perfumed oils?' Reed asked.

'Three different kinds. Why?'

'By my reckoning we have another couple of hours before the negotiations restart. I want to get clean and have a rest. Then I want to get dirty again.' He waggled his eyebrows at Tucker. 'Coming?'

'Not yet, but give me an hour.'

They both laughed as they headed for the bathroom.

 

\--end--


End file.
